


WIlbur and Logan

by Livelongandvulcanon



Category: own work - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 16:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14168919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livelongandvulcanon/pseuds/Livelongandvulcanon
Summary: Just some ideas





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Wilbur sat at the lunch room table, eating his lunch earnestly as Logan rambled on about the latest game he found. He didn’t sleep so well last night, caught in nightmare after nightmare of his absent father abandoning him over and over. While he knew that Logan was going through enough at home, he couldn’t quite bring himself to give him his full attention. Around them the lunch room buzzed with conversations and laughter, the dreary outside casting an ominous light across the faces of the students. He didn’t notice he zoned out until Logan waved his slender fingers in front of his face. Wilbur looked up, feeling chastised for being caught zoning out.

“Sorry, I zoned out pretty bad. I didn’t sleep much last night.” He stifled a yawn, covering his mouth to sell it. 

Logan seemed to pause, narrowing his eyes at him before deciding that it was good enough for him.

“You should get some sleep next time. Or text me and we can stay up and suffer together.” Logan said, eyes soft.

Wilbur knew he meant it because that’s the kind of person he was. “Anyone else I would agree but your lame ass sleeps through everything.” 

“I’m just a sleepy guy!” He always knew what to say to diffuse the situation. “As I was saying, Fortnite is pretty much my only source of fun, even though I’m pretty shit at it. Play a round with me tonight. I won’t take no for an answer. It’s frustrating when you die but that’s the fun of it. Like a new flappy bird!” Logan tossed a cold fry in Wilbur’s direction, a smile gracing his face.

“Pretty sure I said no to peer pressure in that third grade D.A.R.E program, man. And besides, I’ve got the latest Spiderman comics to catch up on. No time for video games tonight,” Wilbur responded, tucking into the rest of his ham sandwich his mother packed for him. He could taste hints of mayonnaise hidden under the ham and cheddar cheese. His mother was often too exhausted from her night shifts to remember he hated mayonnaise, so he ignored it.

“I’m not talking about drugs, loser. I’m talking about the most popular game of the year! You’re gonna regret not joining the hype train.” Logan chewed on the straw to his chocolate milk, fidgeting around in his seat. “Comics can wait. Your best friend can’t.”

Wilbur paused mid bite of his sandwich and stared at Logan. He knew the family problems Logan was going through and understood that he needed more support than usual. He deliberated between the options for a second before meeting Logan’s eager gaze. “Fine. One game. But I’m coming to your house to play. Mom’s out tonight and I don’t want to be alone in the house.”

“How about instead we go to your house. My parents aren’t really in the mood for guests.” The words left hanging in the silence were clear: my parents can’t stop arguing long enough to have guests over. It didn’t take long for Wilbur to catch on.

“As long as you leave my Cinnamon Toast Crunch alone. I won’t hesitate to castrate you in your sleep.” He said simply, gathering his trash.

“You don’t have the balls to do that.” Logan smiled widely, clearly proud of himself. “Get it? “Balls”?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes at the horrible attempt at a joke. “A joke is never funny if you have to explain it, loser.” 

Logan scoffed. “You’re just mad because you walked right into it.”

Wilbur laughed, tossing his bag over his shoulder. At least he wouldn’t be alone tonight.  
\---------------------  
At the end of the day, Logan left his sixth period psychology class with a determination to make the best out of his situation, knowing he could probably trick Wilbur into letting him stay for possibly the whole weekend. He kept a brisk pace as he meandered toward his Jeep where Wilbur was probably waiting. As he walked through the halls, he noticed a couple were leaning on their locker, smiles wide. The boy brushed the hair out from her eyes, tucking it into her ear. She gave him a delicate smile, murmuring something that made him roll his eyes but smile warmly back. She reached up to ruffle his hair which he retaliated with a gentle shove. They turned to walk toward the doors, hands automatically finding each other. It felt wrong to look at them. He had never seen intimacy like that in the people around him. Logan didn’t even think it were possible when their maturity level was eating tide pods. But lately he noticed all around him how love was everywhere and everything, not just mindless groping. It was a gentle smile, a brush of the hands, a thoughtful gesture. Something about that made his heart ache. He wanted to be in love. He wanted to feel someone close to him like that. 

When since his parents started fighting, the idea of love was a joke. He knew Wilbur’s parents ended in a nasty split of some sort, so much so that there were no pictures of him anywhere around their house. He also knew that most of the people in these halls had as much of a chance of staying together after high school as he had to win the lottery. But the way they were with one another, ignoring the rest of the world for each other, the little bubble they shared, it was tempting.

He reached his car where Wilbur stood, texting away on his phone. Throwing his bag in the back, Wilbur quickly filled the silence with stories of his crazy sixth period biology teacher and her long distance skype relationship.

As he drove, the idea of love became the forefront of his focus. He thought about his first and only girlfriend, Marissa. She was the short, quiet girl who sat in the back of his English class in freshman year. When they sat together, he noticed she smelled like freshly done laundry and always wore a headband. He didn’t know if he really liked her but his mom told him to try dating with someone he knew, so he tried with her. In the grand scheme of things, they lasted until she tried to kiss him. Being the normal teenage boy he was, he freaked out, pushed her away from him, and asked if they could just be friends. She never called him again after that. There wasn’t anything in particular that was wrong with her; in fact, she was a sweet girl. She just wasn’t right for him,  
That was the last time anyone else tried to kiss him. He hadn’t really come close after that, and he never thought much about it. When Logan explained what happened to Wilbur, he laughed and gave him a hug. “At least you tried. It’s ok man. Let’s go watch Ironman!” And that was it.

So, when Logan barely reacted with interest during their conversation, Wilbur knew something was wrong with his best friend. “Are you still upset that I didn’t laugh at your balls joke?” He tried for light humor, not wanting to prod Logan right away. 

“No, that joke was amazing, and no one can tell me otherwise.” He gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. Next to him, Wilbur glanced at his friend.

“What are you thinking so hard about? You usually don’t use your brain that hard unless it’s for calculus,” Wilbur said. 

Logan debated explain the whole thought process to Wilbur. Would he understand? Would he agree? Would it change anything? Wilbur had only dated one girl himself and that had a very similar fate to his tumultuous relationship. Maybe this wasn’t as important to Wilbur as it was to him. In the end his closeness with Wilbur is what pushed him to say something to him.

“I was walking to the car when I saw this couple. It made me realize that we’ve never been in the teenage love phase.” Logan said. 

Wilbur was surprised. They never brought up girls.

 

“Well you never seemed interested in any girls at school so I just assumed you were waiting for college girls,” Wilbur answered quietly, fingers tapping on the door handle. 

Logan side eyed his friend before turning back to the road which lead to Wilbur’s driveway. He put the car into park and sighed, turning the engine off. “I just feel like we’re young only once and if we wait until girls talk to us then we’ll never be in love!” He gestured wildly with his hands for emphasis. “I just want to see us happy, especially with all of the things going on at home, you know?”

Wilbur did know. He agreed wholeheartedly with Logan. But what he didn’t understand was that Wilbur was happy with just Logan. He never thought about anyone else taking that space his best friend held in his life. Even though things were difficult with his family, he wanted to keep Logan as his right hand man, not some random girl who knew nothing about him. But he was afraid to admit that to Logan. So instead of saying what he wanted, he decided to lie. “I know what you mean dude. It gets lonely sometimes.” Without you it does.

Logan put a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I’m not the only one. I tried to take my mind off of it but then all the stupid couples in the hall reminded me of how lonely and single I am.”

Wilbur nodded absentmindedly and got out of the car. Logan kept talking about how life would be better with a girl with him and that maybe it was time to start getting themselves out there. His stomach twisted in knots and he refused to think about why.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
A few hours later found the boys laying on Wilbur’s bed, playing video games. Logan realized soon after they got home that Fortnite wasn’t a multiplayer game unless you had separate consoles so they just decided on messing around in GTA V.

“You never stick the landing off that ramp. Let me show you how it’s done.” Logan grabbed the controller from Wilbur and reversed his virtual car and drove it off the ramp near a highway, landing destructively on the cars around him.

“You’re such a show off.”

“Jealous!” Logan singsonged.

They didn’t talk much more about Logan’s epiphany but he was constructing a whole plan in his mind. If he could get Wilbur to be his wingman then maybe they could both find girls and enjoy the rest of their senior year before they left.

“I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier and I’ve come up with an idea.” He ran over a few pedestrians, alerting the police. “Basically, if we start putting ourselves out there, then maybe we can find some girls who might want us! I think Mabel from fifth period has a huge crush on you and that would be a great start.” The police shot at his car but he managed to escape their pursuit. “If we become each other’s wingmen then what could go wrong?” 

Wilbur stayed quiet for a long while, not giving anything away with his silence. “Do you really want that?”

Logan frowned, pausing the game. He turned to look at Wilbur and found his expression unreadable. His green eyes were staring forward, brown curly hair casting a shadow over them. His hands were slightly clenched in his lap, long legs dangling over the edge of his bed. 

“I want us to be happy.” Maybe this could fix his problems at home.

Wilbur turned his head toward Logan, eyes sweeping over his face. They landed on his own brown eyes, trying to find something that wasn’t there. After another breath, he reached over for the controller, unpausing the game. The weird moment was broken. “If you think this is the best way to do it then I’ll do it.”

Logan didn’t know what to make of Wilbur but decided not to pry. Sometimes it was easier to just go with it and wait it out.

“I was thinking we could do our research on girl stuff, maybe enlist the help of a girl for advice? And then we’ll take our knowledge out into the real world at a party or something.” 

“What kind of ‘research’ are you thinking of?” Wilbur cast a doubtful glance toward Logan.

“Well we could practice what we’d say and do on a date? I don’t know, girl magazines?” He sighed, star fishing out on Wilbur’s bed.

“What do you mean practice? Like you pretend I’m a girl and you date me?” Wilbur’s voice was a bit strangled, like the idea was ridiculous.

“How else are we going to figure out what we’re doing? I would do it for you if you asked.”

“But how will I know what a girl wants.”

“I just want to practice. You can be yourself, not pretend to be a girl. I think that’s even weirder.” Logan chewed on his lip, not sure what he was thinking. 

He stood up, the light outside fading as night took its place. “I’m borrowing some clothes.” Logan grabbed his favorite shirt of Wilbur’s and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. “I’m thinking of places we could go to test out different things.” He took off his shirt and turned to face Wilbur. He was surprised when he realized Wilbur was staring at his bare chest. “Do I have something on me?” He stared down at his own chest but saw nothing.

“No there’s nothing there.” He cleared his throat, cheeks slightly more pink than before. He turned his gaze back to the TV. “Places to do what?”

“Places to practice dates in. I’ll pick you up and run through the whole night like I would a real date. You’ll get some free food if you say yes.”

“I’m not starving,” Wilbur said.

Logan removed his pants quickly, pulling on the pajamas bottoms on. “Please? For me?”

“I’m not Freddie and you’re not Carly.” He murmured. After a few minutes of silence, Wilbur finally looked his direction. “I’ll think about it and tell you before we go to sleep.”

Logan sighed. That was probably the best he was going to get for now.

They sat at the kitchen table, eating smores they made over the stovetop. Conversation was light as they mostly kept laughing over stupid sounds the other made. Wilbur didn’t even notice his mother coming in through the front door until she set her keys down onto the counter.

Grace Valentine was a strong woman. She raised her son as a single parent all while going to nursing school. Wilbur’s father had left before he was even born and from what he knew, she never wanted anything to do with him ever again. Her curly brown hair was pulled into a tight bun that she began to pull free, her blue scrubs wrinkled from the day. 

“Logan, I don’t know why I’m even surprised to see you. You basically live here.” Grace went to the stove top and pulled a marshmallow from the bag.

“You know you love me.” He grinned, showing the chocolatey teeth from his smores.

Grace sighed exasperatedly and removed her slightly burned marshmallow from the stove, shoving it in between two graham crackers. “Was it a good day at school?”

Wilbur nodded, cheeks puffed from shoving a whole marshmallow in. 

Grace took her plate of smores and began walking out of the kitchen. She ruffled Logan’s hair and placed a kiss on Wilbur’s head. “Try not to be too loud tonight.” She cast a warning glance toward Logan. “I’ve got a morning shift. Good night both of you.”

“Night mom.” 

“Good night Ms. Valentine.” Logan was nothing if not polite.

She sauntered out of the room, leaving a comfortable silence in her wake. His mother was always kind to him, treating him like a second son. Ever since Wilbur brought him home in the second grade, they had been inseparable. She had always let him sleep over whenever he had things going on at home, which he always did. 

They finished their desserts and cleaned up. 

“Thanks for letting me stay tonight.” Logan rinsed the dish, putting it to dry.

“You’re my best friend, where else would you go?”

Home, he thought. “Nowhere, I guess.” He smiled easily and bumped shoulders with Wilbur.

After they cleaned up they wandered back up to Wilbur’s bedroom. A few more rounds of playing video games left them exhausted.

“Do you think we’re going to be friends forever?” He knew it was a stupid question, they didn’t really have other friends besides each other. That had to count for something.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, loser.” Wilbur didn’t miss a beat responding.

When they laid in bed next to each other, the shadows of the big oak tree outside of Wilbur’s bedroom rested over the walls. Logan couldn’t stop thinking, the dark giving him a blank slate to imagine things. Wilbur laid next to him, breathing almost even enough to be asleep.

“Why are you thinking so loud? I’m trying to sleep.” Wilbur’s gravelly voice broke the silence abruptly, sleepy and soft.

Logan turned in the bed, propping his head up with his elbow to face Wilbur. “Have you decided what you want yet?”

Wilbur stared into Logan’s eyes, his own having adjusted to the darkness. “I have.”

“So?”

He sighed. “I’ll do it. I’m here for you, Logan.”

“Thank god. I was getting worried that you’d abandon me on my mission.” 

“You know I’d never. Now let me sleep,” He said, closing his eyes.

Logan smiled into the darkness, feeling like this was the start of something good.


	2. chapter 2

Chapter Two  
Later the next week Wilbur and Logan sat on the bed, girly magazines spread around them. Wilbur was attempting to decode 17 while Logan was perusing through Tiger beat. 

“This is horrible. Do girls actually think like this?” Wilbur put his magazine down, ready to give up. He couldn’t believe he agreed to do this for Logan.

He could never say no to Logan, regardless of how ridiculous the request was. Which is why when one got in trouble, the other was sure to follow. He had no idea why he said yes to this one. Logan pretend dating him just for practice? That probably crossed so many lines of the bro code. 

“If they do then I don’t think I want one.” He also put his magazine down, turning toward Wilbur. “One of the turnoffs on here is sweaty palms. Do I have sweaty palms?” He looked down at his hands, turning them as if he had never seen them before.

“How am I supposed to know?” Wilbur replied.

“Can we try something? Just hold my hands for a minute so we can see if either of his have clammy hands.” 

Before Wilbur could even respond, Logan reached forward, grabbing his slender fingers into his own and interlaced them. The jumping feeling in his chest and stomach were almost uncomfortable. Wilbur looked up at Logan, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Out of instinct he began to rub his thumb over Logan’s’. He felt his heart racing and he was at a loss for words.

What was he supposed to do with Logan’s hands in his? Logan was just staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t look sad but he didn’t look happy either. Meanwhile Wilbur felt like he was going to throw up. Why was he reacting like this? Why was he feeling these butterflies in his stomach and chest?

It only got worse as the minutes dragged on. Eventually Logan let go of his hands, slowly, as if any sudden movements would scare Wilbur away. 

“So, do I have clammy hands?” 

Wilbur couldn’t meet his gaze. “No. Your hands are fine. I’ll be back.” He stood up abruptly and left the room, propelling himself to the bathroom down the hall. 

Once the door was shut, he gripped the rim of the sink, looking into the mirror. His cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes wide with confusion. What was he doing? What was Logan thinking? Why did this bother him so much? 

He turned the facet on and splashed some cold water on his face. The worst part of it all was how right Logan’s hands felt interlaced in his own. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that. He wasn’t supposed to resist the urge to chase after his hands when he let go. There weren’t supposed to be butterflies in his stomach, aching to be set free. This was dangerous. Wilbur knew he had to walk back in there and call the whole thing off. Things were going to change if he didn’t. 

When he returned back to his room, Logan was sitting there, looking down at his own hands. He looked up at Wilbur, biting his lip anxiously. Wilbur was frozen in the doorway, unsure of what would happen if he walked inside fully.

Just looking at him caused his heart to do flips. Why did he have to sit there on his bed like he owned the whole room?

Logan broke the silence. “Why are your hands so soft? Do you moisturize?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Wilbur couldn’t hide the smile that grew on his face. This was his Logan, not some stranger. He knew that if he called this off, he would find some other girl to be close with. So he decided he wouldn’t say anything after all. “You’re a pervert.”

After Logan went home, Wilbur found himself in the kitchen, doing the dishes. His mother would be home from her shift at the hospital. Lately she had been working more and more to keep up with the mortgage of their house. 

Wilbur knew he would burn water if he tried to cook so he ordered some delivery from their local Chinese restaurant. While he washed the dishes, his mind kept returning to Logan. They were close in a way that neither had been with their other friends. Like Cedric Blackheart, his weird friend from fourth period Calculus. He sometimes hung out with them during lunch when he wasn’t busy in chess club or student body president. Yeah, he was a weird one.

Logan had been his rock ever since he moved into Portland when he was six. They met in the sandbox when someone bullied him for liking superheroes. Logan punched the six year old and Wilbur was instantly smitten. Ever since they had been sort of inseparable. Where one was, the other was sure to follow. They didn’t ever bring other people into their friendship and nobody ever tried to interfere because they knew.

Yet ever since puberty, Wilbur always felt different about their dynamics. He knew he was the only one who felt this way. Logan was always normal, unlike him. Logan looked at other girls, he had celebrity girl crushes, the whole works. He just never saw a need to date, something Wilbur attributed to him just waiting for the right girl to come along. 

The doorbell rang behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed some money and paid the delivery guy, bringing the food into the kitchen. AS he began setting the table, he heard the garage door opening, signalling his mother’s return from work. He just began piling some fried rice onto his plate when his mother came through the kitchen door.

“You did the dishes and you got food? What would I do without you?” She smiled tiredly, a stray hair falling into her face. 

“You’d be sad and wishing you had a handsomely charming son there for you!” He held a plate out for her, all of her favorites stacked precariously. 

Grace took a seat next to him, tucking into her plate. She chewed thoughtfully for a bit, looking at Wilbur. “You look so much like him.”

Wilbur felt his stomach twist painfully. She never brought up his father. All he really knew was that he left before he was born, leaving his mom to raise him herself. He didn’t say anything to that, unsure if it was a compliment or not.  
Grace’s eyes glistened, hand gripping the fork tightly. “I want you to know that I love you Wilbur. You’re the light of my life, through and through.” Her voice wavered near the end and Wilbur felt something big was coming.  
“I love you too, mom,” He said, staring at her.

“But I haven’t been truthful with you about everything.” She put her fork down, covering her face with her hands. Wilbur reached a hand over, rubbing her arm. “About your father, there are things you don’t know about him.”

Wilbur felt the air being pushed out his lungs. He loved his mother, he knew she loved him too, but what did she keep from him?

She sighed, fixing herself before standing up and leaving the room. Wilbur was left with the silence and his tumultuous thoughts.

A few minutes later she returned with a small shoebox in her hands, a tired look on her face. She placed the box onto the table and took her seat, grabbing Wilbur’s hand tightly. “There are some things that I wanted to wait until you were 18 to know about. I know you aren’t yet but I can’t keep hiding these things from you.

“When I was a teenager, I spent a few years in Italy with my grandmother. My parents passed away in an accident and she was the closest family I had. The summer of my 18th birthday, I met a man. He was handsome, strong-willed, and brave. He swept me off of my feet.” She reached into the box, pulling out a faded picture. Her thumb brushed over the front of it, eyes softening as she regarded it. She then passed it to Wilbur.

On the worn photograph was a younger, happier version of his mother with a tall, handsome man. They wore twin smiles, holding each other as they gazed into each other’s eyes. He didn’t know his father was so much like him now.

“Things seemed too good to be true, with how much we loved each other. Yet there were problems. This man-your father, he was wealthy, very wealthy. His family, for generations, owned a multi-billion dollar company around the world. When I was 18, he was 23 and about to take over the company. His family found out about us and disapproved, but he promised that he loved me. He asked to marry me, that he didn’t care what his family thought.” She stopped speaking, giving herself a few moments to recover from the memories that seemed too painful to remember. 

Wilbur didn’t know anything about his father, knew nothing of his heritage on his side, only that his mother was Italian. He had so many questions for his mother.

“When he asked me that, I knew that I truly loved him. Yet something held me back from seeing our future together. He had so much weighing on him and the future company his father was passing onto him. He didn’t have the time to be in love, to start a family like I wanted. I knew I couldn’t be selfish and take the opportunities away from him to be successful, something he wanted long before me. I made a decision one night: I packed my things, all the money I had saved up, and I left him in Italy.”


End file.
